Cruel Cycle
by EmilyEphebiphobia
Summary: She really does hate this sick cycle, but at the same time, she can't help but love it. SasuSaku.  Deleted Second Chapter


**This literally just came to me while I was reading random fics. Enjoy.**

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><p><strong>Cruel Cycle<strong>

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><p>It is always late when she arrives home to their three bedroom apartment; all cold sweat and energy drained.<p>

She never does make it to her room before collapsing at the table.

He wonders how she can stand so much work every day, and still stay so energized in the morning. He wonders how she can put up with so many patients, and at the same time with so many missions.

He is always there, sitting across from her, as she collapses on the wooden chair, yawning. She always has a small smile waiting for him, but never a greeting. It's been this way, he assumes, since he left six years ago. But he wonders why it is still this way. He has returned, and living unwillingly with her and the dobe (because his mansion is being cleaned out, six years of dust of course does that to you).

He is always the one to make her a coffee, which always seems to bring her back to respectable energy levels. She never thanks him.

It's a cruel cricle they go through everyday.

From the silent apartment, he can hear the faint snores coming from Naruto's room. She pushes back her short locks, taking a sip of the hot liquid. He sits beside her, watching her close and open her eyes many times, trying to regain some energy back into herself.

After twenty minutes, she is no longer drained of energy, but back to her usual self, minus the hyperactivity.

Her empty mug makes it to the sink full of dishes before he is behind her, his eyes gleaming in the darkness as they run over her hair. The cruel cycle once again starts, as she finds herself backed up against the sink counter, a pair of cold lips on her still warm ones.

He never asks.

And she never objects.

Small fingers run up his shoulders, and tangle themselves in his dark hair, kneading his scalp. He shivers. Somehow, her mind stops registering their surroundings, and before long, she is in his room, falling back onto soft pillows and silk sheets. She still doesn't object as a warm body covers her own, long, cold fingers running over her heated and exposed skin.

It's her turn to shiver.

But she is no longer the lovestruck, needy and fragile girl he left behind. But never once does he think of this as a problem, even when he finds himself pushed on his back, a pair of thighs straggling his waist as she roughly bites onto his lip, grasping his shirt.

In a matter of seconds, the same shirt is on the ground, across the room.

She takes her time enjoying the exposed muscles, skin and glory of the man he has become, before she's prompty pushed onto her own back, and he's looming over her. She finds this time, articles of clothing that hit the floor increase in numbers.

At this point, she usually wonders what she is to him. But before her mind can wonder, it aways comes to the same conclusion. She is what he desperately _needs _to keep himself sane, alive. His cold hands grip her thighs tightly, and she opens her emerald eyes to find his own obsidian ones clouded over with the usual emotion she finds; lust. But she can't help but search, and find an unknown emotion hidden behind it.

As soon as he's inside her, all thoughts disperse from her brain.

It's now only him and her in the world.

All that matters.

Her minds ability to process things around her is unfortunately slow, even when he grips her hips, forcing her to move with him; all she can make out is a loud growl. She really does hate this sick cycle.

But at the same time, she can't help but love it.

She knows this is how she remains close to Sasuke, the mechanical man. She smirks, growing familiar to the villiages nickname for him. Because, Sakura admits without shame, it does fit him. The only time it doesn't is now, when he lets out a low noise in his throat, which turns into a roar, calling out her very own name. This of course is normal though for him.

She starts to wonder how Naruto can sleep every night with them in the next room.

She claws at his back, trying to make out words, because even though she doesn't know what she feels for him, she always has to assure him she's right here, with those simple three words with thick meanings behind them.

"_I love you._"

He never does respond, but she knows he accepts her, _it_, what they are, if they are anything. He nips at her collarbone, his movements now becoming harsher, if possible.

In the morning after their encounters, she is exhausted, always sore, but she never shows it. Even Naruto can have the tendency to be suspicious. She leaves his bed early in the morning, like he does when they switch to her room some times, and heads into the small bathroom, wanting to wash his scent from her.

She seems to find it sickening during the day.

At breakfast, as Naruto munches on his cereal, and Sasuke chews on a tomato; she can't help but love the peace. The cycle is dormant for now.

She bids them goodbye later, heading out for her late shift at the hospital. She knows while she is gone, they will spend the entire day training, fighting with Kakashi, and indeed ripping each other apart.

But when she arrives home in the late hour, the cycle will continue. Naruto will have already retired for the night, snoring loudly, and Sasuke will be sitting at the table, waiting for her, while the coffee brews. Again, her empty cup will make it to the sink, before she is backed up against the hard granite, with his always cold lips pressed against hers. Part of her mind accepts this will go on for a long time, and the other part doesn't.

But Sasuke seem to have other plans.

That night, he watches the coffee brewer, eyeing the minutes left, and then stares at the clock. His mind processes what happens every day between them, and he can't help but wonder, and worry at the same time.

He decides after their encounter tonight, he'll end this sick cycle that holds them as barely friends in the day, and _fuck _buddies (He has never used that word before, he hates it) in the night. He wants to return her three simple words.

He fingers the ring in his pocket, his eyes gracing to the clock again.

The cycle ends the next morning.

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><p><strong>How'd you like it? Just a thing I randomly thought of.. Hope you enjoyed! Review, please? Thanks. ^^<strong>


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